


Ambrosia

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Possessive Q, Protective Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:53:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he saw him, James was on his sixth shot of tequila in a shady club tucked away in the middle of London that he had no idea how he found while walking around aimlessly on the one year anniversary of M’s ‘promotion’ from head of MI6 to – probably – intermediary ruler of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambrosia

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help but make this. I apologize to people who like Greek mythology.
> 
> Please excuse any and all mistakes and enjoy~

The first time he saw _him_ , James was on his sixth shot of tequila in a shady club tucked away in the middle of London that he had no idea how he found while walking around aimlessly on the one year anniversary of M’s ‘promotion’ from head of MI6 to – probably – intermediary ruler of Hell.

 

His plan was simple: get drunk, pick up someone and fuck his regrets away. But it turned out to be a tad harder than he had expected. It wasn’t because the women or men weren’t attractive or willing – a few even directly sitting in his lap and wrapping their arms around his neck, whispering their dirty little wishes in his ear. It was just that… Actually, James didn’t know what it was.

 

And then _he_ appeared from a backroom, the club’s atmosphere instantly changing, becoming hotter, more intimate as the people suddenly became friendlier with each other while the alcohol became ten times better. He seemed to float around, smiling at all who turned to look at him, running his long, slender fingers down the sides of their faces, lips brushing their foreheads.

 

But that wasn’t what caught James’ eye, nor the fact that he seemed to ooze sex appeal from every pore of his toga covered body or that he appeared to wear a crown made out of golden vines that moved whenever he did. No, it was the fact that the man was a dead ringer for his sassy, young Quartermaster which had plagued his thoughts and dreams since their first mission together.

 

He set the empty shot glass down and pushed past the frenzied and ecstatic crowd, grabbing the strange man’s hand. Even the air around him was intoxicating and James had a hard time speaking without them being slurred. “That toga would look better on the floor somewhere and your body ten times hotter with the sheets of my bed wrapped around your naked body.”

 

An all too familiar smug smirk appeared on the man’s lips and he wrapped his long arms around James, pulling him flush against his body. “This is actually the first time I hear that and you get points for originality.” Even the posh whisper was the same and it drove James wild.

 

Every time the man touched James, he felt like he was on fire. His porcelain white skin was the sweetest thing James’ lips had touched and when their lips finally connected, he felt as if he was kissing the perfect glass of wine. The world swarm around him and everything got blurry, his knees buckling under him. But the man was strong and held him from falling on the ground, gliding into a room where no sound reached them.

 

James was thrown on a bed covered in black satin sheets and only when the he felt the man’s hot, naked body on top of his did he realize that he also no longer had clothes. “I never pegged you as someone who would be into this, Q,” James whispered in his ear before running his tongue over it, feeling himself getting even drunker.

 

The man sat up right on James’ lap, moving his hips in small circles while he dragged his sharp nails down his chest. “I’m not Q, but let’s pretend that I am and show me just what you would do to this man.”

 

James chuckled, sliding his finger down Q’s hard member, grunting at the sight of the young man biting his lower lip as his eyes rolled back. “Oh, you want to that game? Okay then, _stranger_ , this is what I’d do to him.”

 

And he grabbed him and threw him under him, biting and licking his neck, chuckling when he felt the strong legs wrap around his waist. They moved as one, moaning and groaning in pleasure, getting lost in each other’s touches and taste and James felt like he was on top of the world, exploding every time Q touched him in a certain way.

 

James made sure to leave as many love bites as he could on Q’s neck and chest, loving the way he tasted and the way he squirmed and mewled under him, pleading for him to cease his torment and just enter him already. And James did, unable to control himself even more, shivering when he heard how loud Q called his name.

 

“Worship me,” Q demanded, fisting his hand in James’ hair, pulling his head away from his neck to force him to look at him.

 

And Q looked breathtakingly magnificent, his tantalizing red lips parted slightly as he panted in anticipation, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistered under whatever light there was in the room. His half lidded eyes that were filled with mesmerizing need and lust promised unimaginable amounts of pleasure.

 

“James, worship me,” Q growled lowly, tugging on James’ hair harder, angered that he seemed to be distracted.

 

“Every inch of your body, love,” James promised hungrily, thrusting his hips hard and getting a sharp intake of breath from Q. “Until the sun rises and sets again. I’ll worship you until we both can’t move from his bed,” he promised as he moved faster against him, searching for his lips to cover them with his own and swallow his moans.

 

It felt like a pleasant eternity had past when James was finally done and he was reluctant to roll off of the man who was still pushing himself against the covers, radiating in pleasure. He seemed surprised when James entwined their fingers and looking adorably shocked when he received a chaste kiss right before James muttered a ‘good night’.

 

He woke feeling better than he had in years, no trace of a hangover or anything. In fact, his body felt as if he had just received the most divine massage in existence and he turned around, expecting to find a sleeping Q by his side which he planned on showing just how thankful he was for the previous night.

 

But the bed was cold and empty. In fact, James realized that it was his bed and not the one Q had guided him in the back of the bar last night and he felt lost. Had it been a dream? A quick check in the mirror revealed thin, red scratch marks on his chest and back as well as many love bits that seemed to form a necklace around his neck.

 

The sunlight fell on the bed and something shining between the sheets, James carefully plucking the golden vine leaf which he was sure it had come from Q’s strange crown. He decided to take it as proof that Q had managed to bring him home and assumed that an emergency back at MI6 forced him to leave before James woke up.

 

Of course, there was the possibility that everything had been a single one night stand, but the still needed to talk and see where they stood and if they had a relationship. And James hoped that they did, Q being one of the few people he felt like he could trust and that wouldn’t let him down, the young man constantly risking his position to help him complete his missions.

 

Everyone seemed surprised when he walked in MI6 with a huge smile on his lips, a skip in his step and humming a little song – very childish of him, but the night with Q had worked wonders on him and it served to chase away all those horrible thoughts that had sunk their claws in his brain a day prior.

 

“Ah, the rakish and respectable R,” James said when his eyes landed on the petite woman, grabbing her hand and planting the kiss on the back of her palm. “Might I ask where our quick-witted and qualified quartermaster is?”

 

The woman tried to cover her snort with a cough. “Did someone hit you in the head with a dictionary last night, Bond?”

 

James moved forward and pinched her cheeks. “Funny, R, very funny. Now where is Q? I need to talk with him about something very important.”

 

“In the lab, in the lab,” she said fast, trying to slap his hands away. “Bond, it hurts, stop it!”

 

He released her face and continued to skip, waving behind him. “It made them rosier which the minion that’s hiding in the corner with a box of chocolates will like even more.”

 

The sight that greeted him the moment he stepped into Q’s laboratory sent all the blood rushing to his groin. The man was leaned over a table, showing off just how tight his pants really were and James glued himself to him, brushing his lips against the man’s neck. “You might as well come bare-assed into work today, love. How about I lock the door and we do a repeat of last night?”

 

Q unfroze the instant James grinded against him, dropping the two vials in his hand and yelping, pushing all of his weight against the man and throwing both of them in the other side of the room just in time for a small explosion to destroy his desk.

 

“Are you insane, agent?” Q demanded and slapped the agent’s chest with his protection goggles as hard as he could.

 

“I’m sorry, I had no idea that you were working with explosives,” James said honestly, running his hands over Q’s body to make sure that his clothes weren’t on fire. “But since we’re both on the ground, the atmosphere is hot and my hands are on you, how about I—“

 

He did not expect the hard slap. Or for Q to jump to his feet so fast and kick him in the ribs, putting as much distance between them as he could. “Again, are you insane? What gave you the impression that I was okay to do this? Did you drink an entire vineyard before coming here? Did you hit your head?”

 

Shocked and in pain, James pulled himself up. “Last night we had sex, so I thought that made it okay for me to hit on you at least when no one was around until we talked about it,” he put it bluntly, starting to open his shirt to show Q what he had done to his neck only to quickly lift his hands up in the air when the young man pointed something that might have been a cross being a Nerf gun and a Taser.

 

“I wasn’t even in London last night!” Q glanced to the side and he seemed to remember something, dropping his weapon. “A year passed already? James, I am sorry, really. I think you started to hallucinate after drinking too much last night.”

 

Q was acting shy, blushing and everything, but James was sure he some mischief sparkling in those green eyes that he would never mix up. “I might have, yes,” he started to say slowly, glancing at Q’s neck. No marks there, but he was too far away to be able to see if there was make up involved.

 

He might have been staring for too long because Q cleared his throat, looking extremely uncomfortable and holding himself in a manner that made James think of a cautious cat. “Do you need help with anything that’s not related to your libido or dreams?”

 

James shook his head. Had he imagined everything? Was he under some kind of drug? He didn’t feel like he was drugged. “Might I help you with your experiment? I was the one who ruined it and…” He trailed off when he took a step closer to Q and the man jumped further away from him, putting a chair between them.

 

“I’m fine agent, thank you for your offer.” Q said quickly, pulling a lab coat on and getting out a new pair of safety goggles. “Hope you feel better, agent.”

 

James stopped by Medical, got the doctor to confirm that he really had bite marks on his body and check to see if he could find any traces of drugs in his blood stream. He didn’t bother to answer any questions that followed the negative answer, quickly making his way to the bar he had been to last night, surprised to find a rundown house in its place.

 

“Excuse me,” he called to a bored looking shopkeeper. “Could you tell me if this place turns into a club during the night?”

 

The man looked at him like he was insane, clutching tighter to his broom. “That house has been like that since before I started working here five years ago. A malnourished cat couldn’t walk in it without breaking the floor so I am going to go with no to the club question.”

 

The first thing James checked when he got home was if the golden leaf was still hidden in his bedside table, sighing in relief. Okay, so he wasn’t losing his mind just yet. That was a good thing. But he was also sure the person he slept with last night had been Q even though he was supposedly out of town in the back of a club that did not exist.

 

Maybe Q was hiding something from him? Maybe he did not want to mix his work life with his private life or maybe he was too ashamed to tell James that he wanted nothing more than sex from him. But again, if that was the case, why did he react the way he did when James offered?

 

What if he had a twin brother? Well, that would be a soap opera type of twist, but just in case that was real, James had slept with him thinking it was Q. He had a thing for Q, not for the potential twin brother, so he had to focus on getting the man to like him. Or at least to look at him as a friend and not some perverted old man.

 

This would turn out to be quite a challenge, Q refusing to be in the same office as him if they were alone or insisting on keeping a distance of at least five chairs between them. He eyed whatever sweets, foods or drinks he brought him like they were poisoned and only touched them after James tasted them first.

 

But it was okay. James liked a challenge, Q didn’t start testing weapons on him and he was still in high spirits. In fact, he hadn’t felt this good since before he lost his parents when he was young.

 

***

 

The second time he saw _him_ was just after a mission in Greece had ended horribly. Well, London was still standing, the bad guy had been stopped, but the person James swore to protect because of how weak she appeared to be, stabbed him in the back with an actual knife and revealed herself to be the real master mind.

 

“ _Agent, is everything in order? You are moving away from the pick-up point_ ,” Q’s soft voice drifted in his ear, helping James to anchor himself back in reality.

 

“Q, do me a favour? Lose me for two days? I promise to bring you whatever you ask of me from here or contact you if I get into any sort of trouble.”

 

He heard a tired sigh, followed by the line dying for a moment and then Q’s voice again. “ _I don’t have a reading on 007 anymore. Keep the emergency line opened because he thinks we’re his bloody taxi service._ ”

 

“Love you, Q,” James said easily, feeling better for a fraction of a second before his chest started to hurt again.

 

Men and women started to wink at him, beckoning him over to their tables or to their cars, but James simply smiled at them, shook his head and continued his aimless walk. And then _he_ appeared suddenly in front of him, smirking sensually at him as he leaned on a staff, still dressed in a toga, still with a vine crown made out of gold on his head.

 

James silently followed him right out of the city, his mind not registering that it took an impossible short amount of time to reach the middle of a forest. He saw women dance naked in front of large fires, couples lost in the throes of passion while others laughed and drank enormous amounts of wine.

 

“Are you coming?” the Q dressed in toga asked, poking his head from behind one of the Greek columns that surrounded a large bed which James would swear they hadn’t been there a minute ago. “Or did you find a circle that suits you? There’s an orgy going on right behind that bush,” he said with amusement in his voice.

 

James discarded his clothes and joined the already naked man on the bed, forgetting what he wanted to ask the moment he felt his intoxicatingly sweet taste again. It felt so good to run his fingers over the familiar body, nibble on those sinfully luscious lips and feel those powerful legs tightly wrap around his hips again.

 

“James, worship me?” He pleaded in a mewled voice, rubbing his face against James’ stubble.

 

The agent sat up suddenly and pinched the man’s tights, causing him to let go of his hips while letting out a sort of moaned yelp, the night’s air. “Always and forever, love.” He said slowly, moving down his body and placing Q’s legs on his shoulders.

 

Everything about the man was sweet. Everything he licked, nibbled, sucked, swallowed was better than the most expensive wine and when he managed to force his eyes open because he wished to see how he looked lost in passion, he managed to become harder.

 

The man was spread out on the bed, head thrown back in ecstasy, face red with his eyes closed, one hand fisted in the sheets while he was biting his thumb on the other. He was chanting his name like a mantra, starting to buckle against James’ mouth when he felt the other man stop, opening his eyes to look at him.

 

“What? What? Why do you torment me so? Move! Do something before this feeling goes away,” he pleaded, using his head to push James’ head down.

 

But James had stopped because he suddenly noticed the way everyone else was looking at his partner, drooling, hands outstretched as if they were waiting just for the right time to slither their way in the bed and take James’s place. And as stupid as it sounded, James wanted to pull the man under the bed and hide him from their eyes. He was his and only his.

 

“Bloody hell, you and your stupid ego...” the man grumbled, snapping his fingers which seemed to make vines grow from nowhere around the columns, forming a thick drape that hid them from view. “Now worship me properly, or risk angering me.”

 

“I only want to please you.” Which he did, long into the night.

 

The feeling of happiness that he felt when he heard the way the man called out his name second only to how he felt when the sinful mouth wrapped around his own member. He couldn’t believe how long or warm his tongue was, nor how good he was with his fingers and he was surprised still that he had it enough in him to be rode until the sun was coming up.

 

This time, when James grabbed the man’s hand, he was rewarded with a smile which he would almost call fond. But he wasn’t ready to fall asleep just yet, no matter how much his body was begging him to. “How can you be here?” he whispered, throwing a leg over the man’s middle.

 

James was surprised to find a chalice pushed to his lips, the sweet wine that passed his lips not being nearly as good as what he had tasted during the night. “Pillow talk? My, my, what a surprise.” Q – because his mind refused to accept that this was anyone else but Q – said in a fake surprised voice, hesitating for a second before he moved to kiss his forehead.

 

He woke up with a start in the middle of a huge hotel room, covered in paintings representing all sorts of nymphs dancing around flowery poles, a bunch of men dressed in white togas looking bored at them from half made gazebos, little angels feeding them grapes. They were done decently enough not to be considered kitsch, but James almost took them as a sign of him slowly descending into madness until he found the familiar golden vine leaf on the pillow next to him.

 

He found a brand new suit alongside a new pair of shoes, room service coming in not a second after he was finished with his shower. He rang the reception, the man’s annoyed voice suddenly turning into a kind one after James introduced himself, asking what they might be honoured to do for him in that morning.

 

“I seem to have drunk a little bit too much last night and I can’t quite remember anything. I also want breakfast, if possible.”

 

The hotel manager himself served him his food, a huge smile on his face as he held out James’ wallet, telling him that they had been entrusted with it and that the room had been paid from off of a different card. “I assure you that we did not charge for more than you had spent and I instructed everyone not to spend the most generous tips you and your partner had bestowed on them.”

 

It was very odd that he had instantly turned white when he said that and he quickly covered his mouth, eyes darting around the room as if he expected someone to suddenly appear and tear him apart. James tried to get more info about his partner, but the man just kept changing the subject and managed to escape the interrogation when the phone in the room started to ring.

 

“ _I am sorry to bother you during breakfast, Mister Bond_ , _but I have your personal assistant on the line who wishes to speak with you directly,_ ” the receptionist said quickly and James could easily picture the man slightly bowing in front of him.

 

“Sure, patch my assistant through.” Was he surprised when Q asked him in a dry voice if he was done sleeping with all of Greece and ready to come home? No. He was surprised that the man sounded like he hadn’t slept at all and that his voice was slightly scratchy, as if he had screamed all night.

 

“ _What an odd thing to ask, Bond. Yes, I caught a cold if you must know and I also had scrambled eggs for breakfast. Now will you be on the bloody flight I booked for you in three hours? Or are you planning on walking home?”_

 

“Three hours, Q? Now that doesn’t give me too much time to buy you a proper gift. At least tell me what you want and maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find it in a little shop on my way to the airport.” He was playing with the little golden leaf, imagining himself running down Q’s bare back in the morning as the young man enjoyed his breakfast.

 

“ _Just my bloody agent back before M loses what little patience he has when it comes to you and forces me to send a retrieval team after you. Those operations always have so much useless paperwork attached to them and M will insist that I fill it in entirely by hand_.”

 

The line was cut before James could say anything else, a clear message that Q himself was at his wits ends with him. A cab was already waiting for him when he reached the front desk and James had just one final request before he left their hotel.

 

“I have fallen in love with the painting of the man with the wine vines on his head, surrounded by beautiful, dancing maidens. How much do you want for it?” He took note of the way they all started to sweat, glancing at each other.

 

“Dionysus and his Maenads?” Someone finally asked, gulping when he nodded. “You’ve been such a treasured guest that we will gift it to you. We shall have it wrapped up in a minute.”

 

Q was surprised when he was presented with the painting, unable to keep his little smile hidden from James’ watchful eyes who was searching for any tell-tale signs that he had been the one whose neck his was munching in that strange forest in Greece. If only his bloody, awful cardigan wasn’t in his way.

 

“Did I get you a decent gift, my Quartermaster?”

 

Q hugged the painting for a second before hiding it under his desk, turning to look at the agent with almost filtrations eyes. “Flattered that you remembered about my passion for paintings, but not enough to get you out of the serious scolding you’re about to receive.”

 

He could tug on his ears and bend him over his knee to give him a spanking as far as James was concerned. Maybe that was why he looked at him like a teenager in love, nodding his head and apologizing for being unable to keep his smile off his face.

 

“I promise that I’ll look positively devastated when I leave your office.” He took Q’s hand in his. “Might I treat you to lunch before I start losing you in the room if you turn sideways?”

 

The kick he got under the desk was totally worth it because he got to stare and listen to Q talking about art for an entire hour, enjoying the familiar noises of pleasure he made when he ate the chocolate cake.

 

***

James came up with a very simple plan for the next time he would bump into the Q dressed in a toga. He was going to handcuff him to whatever bed they were in and then bombard him with questions on the following day, when his mind wasn’t clouded by passion and pleasure.

 

It took longer for their paths to cross again, but when they did, James was emptying a bottle of vodka in his poorly lit kitchen, having just returned from a funeral of the man who had been his instructor in the navy. He actually considered him to be a sort of father figure, James keeping contact with him long after MI6 had ordered him to cut all ties with the past.

 

“He was old and he died in his sleep. Many would kill for a death as pleasant as that,” the sweet, deep voice whispered in his ear, a lithe body pressing against him as slim fingers snuck under his shirt.

 

“Maybe I am actually jealous and not said,” James proposed, pulling him in his arms. “Will you tell me who you are already?”

 

He tapped his nose, smirking. “You seem to love calling me Q when we’re intimate, so I must be Q.” He was easily picking the buttons off of James’ shirt. “Let’s not concern ourselves with something as useless as identities, James.”

 

“I’m a spy. I have to know who I sleep with. And if you claim that you’re not Q, how do I know that you are not pumping me for information.” He gasped when the man started to make little circles with his abnormally longue tongue around his bellybutton.

 

“Hm, I assure you that there’s a different kind of pumping when we are in bed.” He stood up and let his toga pull around his feet, running his hands down his body. “Show me to your bedroom and allow me to remind you?”

 

He laughed when James handcuffed him to the bed, pretending to struggle for a bit and mockingly pleading with him to let him go. The night went as it usually did, the bed frame hitting against the wall as James pounded into Q, their voices completely drowning out the city’s noises.

 

When they were done, Q tugged on the cuffs, looking at James with a raised eyebrow. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me go now and this time I am being honest in my request.”

 

But James just chuckled and wrapped himself around him, resting his head on the man’s pale chest as he made sure that they were properly covered. “Ask me that again in the morning as it seems that I have forgotten where I put the keys.” He kissed his neck and wished him a good night, happy that he finally caught his prize.

 

If this was truly not Q then the Quartermaster would be very intrigued to meet his doppelganger even if it would take James even more months to convince the young man that he deserved a chance and that it wasn’t a horrible idea to get with the man who slept three times with an exact replica of him.

 

And if it turned out that this was indeed Q, like James was sure the case it would be, then they would finally have an open conversation about how he seemed to be all knowing, all powerful and generally able to be in London and in another country at the same time.

 

But James woke up alone, hugging a pillow and tangled up in his own sheets, a golden vine leaf resting next to the unbroken and still fully functional handcuffs. He cussed in anger, yelling at the person who was knocking on his door rather rudely for the hour his digital clock showed him.

 

“You keep me up with your sex noises and you have the guts to yell at me?” His next door neighbour, an old man that carried himself as if he was royally blew up in his face, slapping him with his paper.

 

It took all of James’ self-control not to break his neck. Especially since the man might have been glued to the door visor long enough to catch a glimpse of his sneaky lover leaving his apartment. “Would you be so kind to tell me when my yelling companion left my apartment?”

 

“Oh, you brought up a rent boy that robbed you blind? Good! I hope he got everything of value you had in here! I didn’t see anything, dreams included because of you and your little hooker!”

 

The licence to kill expired when it came to civilians, James reminded himself. But punching them and breaking their noses was still okay. He’ll deal with the consequences later and his bank account was large enough for him not to even feel an entire year’s worth of his salary getting cut if it came to that.

 

“Don’t you _ever_ call him any derogatory terms, understand?” He took the scared whimper as an affirmative answer and he tossed a bag of ice alongside a cloth at him before slamming the door shut in his face.

 

After he made sure that the third piece of the crown was safe and sound next to the others, he grabbed his personal phone and called Q, feeling extremely guilty when he heard the man’s groggy voice.

 

“ _Unless this is an emergency, Bond, I regret giving you my private number and I might change it in the course of today,_ ” he warned and James quickly thought up of a lie about how he had a terrible nightmare and just wanted to be sure that Q was alive and well.

 

“Since I woke you up anyway, how about I buy you breakfast?” Time for his usual check-up of the man’s neck as well as creating a new habit alongside eating lunches together.

 

Q hummed. “ _Bond, I’m in New York, remember? I’ll be back at the end of the week and I promise that I won’t have a single mark on me. Now can I go back to sleep? It’s 2 AM.”_

 

Apparently he could feel guiltier than he already was. “I’m sorry, it slipped my mind. I love you?” The words came to him too easy and he wasn’t sure that he was joking anymore.

 

 _“I promise to love you back if you let me have a decent night’s rest_.” The phone was dropped on the ground and he listened for a couple of more seconds, hearing the springs creak as Q turned around and probably hid his head under the pillow.

 

He fell asleep, imagining that Q was next to him, practically feeling those slender and warm fingers caress his face, not finding it odd at all that the touch was too real or that the lips that brushed against his temples were warm and wet.

 

***

 

The fourth time they met, James was sure it was going to be the last because he was bleeding out behind a bunch of containers while his attackers were making his way towards him. He tried to chuckle when Q crouched down next to him, ending up spitting blood on his toga.

 

“Red suits you for a strange reason,” he wheezed out. “I’m afraid I lost contact with my Quartermaster, but at least I have my imagination here with me to keep me company as they execute me.”

 

Q silently picked up his hand and nuzzled his palm, sighing. “And if you were still in contact with your Quartermaster, would you have felt better hearing his voice crack while being forced to witness you hitting the bucket or whatever without being able to help you?”

 

It felt as if he’d been struck in the face with a steel pipe. Make his Q go through that? No, never. “I hope he doesn’t spit on my coffin if M makes him attend my funeral.” He forced himself to cup the man’s face, rubbing shaky thumbs over his lips. “I should have listened to him.”

 

The figment of imagination that seemed to leave behind very real pieces of a crown – the people who checked them losing their minds at how old they were and how perfectly preserved they were, offering him huge amounts of money for them – leaned close and rubbed their noses together, sighing against his lips. “Yes, you should have. And no, he wouldn’t.”

 

He wanted to ask him why he was so sure, but the man was on his feet in a second, shielding his body with his. James took a deep breath and got ready to feel the burning pain that instantly came with the bullets piercing his body, but he only heard his attackers laughing, asking if the boy didn’t get lost on his way to a costume party or an orgy.

 

James tried to reach for his gun to shoot the man who had said that, but his limbs refused to listen to him and his arm flailed like a fish on the ground. And fuck! He just remembered that he had promised Q to take him out to this fancy new Sushi restaurant that had just opened and for which you needed to make a reservation months in advance unless you personally knew the owner.

 

Oh great, now he was hearing music. Bleeding to death apparently caused a lot of hallucinations. Except that the men who had gunned him down were also looking around, trying to find out where the erratic music came from. The women started to appear from behind trees and containers, dressed in what appeared to be fawn dresses.

 

“Not this one,” Q muttered softly, picking James in his arms as if he weighed absolutely nothing and walking away while the women started to tare the people apart, bullets doing absolutely nothing to stop them. “He’s mine, mine, just mine,” he sing-sang.

 

James found himself being gently placed on a large, soft bed and he could help but laugh because it seemed that he was going to leave this life riding the throws of passion. He realized that many would be jealous of him, especially the men that just died having their heads torn away from their bodies.

 

“I’m not going to sleep with you, so tell junior to go back to bed,” Q said, slapping his lower region which really did not help. “Your doctors should study you because you are the only man in extreme, real pain that still manages to get an erection.”

 

“It’s because you’re here and you look like my Q.” He wasn’t sure that he was actually saying those words until he felt the man caress his face, kissing him deeply, the taste of sweet wine filling him and dulling the pain. “Thank you.”

 

“Shh, I’m trying to get Aceso to work with me. She’s still pissed off over the last person I brought back from the death without her help.” Well, that had to be the strangest thing James had ever heard in his life.

 

He watched the man furrow his brows, his lips thinning as his green eyes seemed to spark with green lightning, a sudden storm breaking out. He clicked his tongue as beads of sweat formed ion his forehead and all James wanted to do was lift his hand and massage his forehead until the frown went away and he relaxed.

 

“And just why should I help you?” A voice suddenly boomed and a woman dressed in a warm green dress came into view, hands crossed over her chest adorned with all sorts of golden bracelets.

 

“Because I prayed to you and because I asked you nicely.” James just then realized that Q’s hands were shaking. “And because I care for this mortal.” He admitted softly, looking extremely sad.

 

That seemed to soften the upset woman’s heart, but she wasn’t quite ready to let bygones be bygones. “Why don’t you just cross the bloody Styx and bring him back like you did the last time?”

 

“Because I can’t! Not this time, at least. James is not of that time anymore and the gates to where he’ll be do not open in the other direction for those who were born mortals.” Thunder struck very close to them and Q rested his head against his chest. “It’s starting to stop. Aceso, _please_! You’re the goddess of the healing, so heal him and I will do whatever you ask of me.”

 

“You will make it so that my statue is discovered or you will never hear from me again, understand? And trust me, he looks like the type of human for which you’ll have me on speed dial.”

 

Q nodded, uttered something that James didn’t understand and the woman clapped her hands, running them down his chest. This time, the warmth that travelled through his body was a different kind of pleasant and breathing started to be easier for James. She leaned over him and kissed his bullet wounds, spitting out the perfectly formed bullets, the holes instantly closing.

 

The whole thing probably lasted ten minutes and when she moved away, James turned on his side, thankful for the warm blanket that was carefully tucked around him. He tried to focus on the two apparent Gods talking right above him, but sleep won over his curiosity and he easily entered the land of dreams.

 

He woke up to the sound of someone typing rather furiously. He slammed his hand over the right side of the bed, jumping up when he heard a long string of cusses come from there, his arm stinging from the hot tea that got spilled on it.

 

“Bloody hell, Bond! If I saved you from death by bullets only to electrocute yourself, I won’t utter a single syllable to bring that blasted woman here,” Q warned, putting his laptop away and waving his arm around, the stain magically disappearing from his sheets.

 

It took James’ mind a moment to catch up to everything and he threw himself at Q, pushing him down and kissing him senseless, apologizing for not following his instructions and promising to never do it again. And then: “Who are you? What are you? How is it that I am alive? Are you my Q? How did you get out of the handcuffs?”

 

Q chuckled, gently patting his head. “Just so you know, you’re missing in action and your Quartermaster is going up the walls trying to find you.” He covered James’ mouth with his hand. “I’m Q, so stop asking me that. I tried to follow father’s instructions and not get involved with you, but you are so _you_ that’s impossible. I had to taste you, had to make love to you, had to save you and keep you happy.”

 

James poked his sides, using the moment of distraction to trap his hands above his head. “So why not be honest with me from the start? Why lie to me and make me think I was going insane?” He blinked and Q disappeared from under him, a warm body leaning against his back.

 

“Despite what you think, I never lied.” He held out a hand in front of James and the crown of vines appeared, missing three leaves. “When this is on my head, I am Dionysus, the god of wine, grape harvest, theatre, of ritual madness and so on and so forth. You always asked me if I was Q when I had it on.”

 

He let James take the crown, kissing his neck. “The day after our first encounter, when you didn’t have this bloody thing on, you acted as if I sexually assaulted you.”

 

“You had sex with me, I made love to you. The way you phrase things around me means a lot.” He snapped his fingers, smirking. “And we were in the middle of my branch which is mostly formed of my maenads and satyrs. Did you want a sudden orgy to break out? While important missions were being ran?”

 

James snorted. “You really are their Overlord and they your trusty minions. They’ve been loyal to you for hundreds of years. But why would an orgy break out if we had sex?”

 

It was clear that certain things were completely going over James’ head and Q promised to give him a proper lesson in Greek myths when he was feeling better. He let the man cuddle with him, humming in delight as kisses were placed upon his brows. He was almost asleep when James sat up suddenly, reaching for something in his bedside table.

 

“You kept losing these,” the man said, showing him the golden leaves. “Does that mean anything? Should I worry? What do I need to do?” James tried to get his mind back under control, but if Gods were real and myths weren’t myths, what if their personal artefacts breaking meant that they were dying.

 

“James, James, love, relax. It simply means that I should start taking it off when we make love. I am not dying. I’m immortal. Put the leaves in their empty slots and the crown will be whole again” He summoned his crown again, letting it hover in front of James while he went back to using his chest as a pillow. “Also, I cannot be bound by chains. That’s how I got out of those handcuffs. They simply had no power over me. Try with a cloth next time.”

 

He should go into shock, James realized, but his double oh preparation didn’t allow him. Or he was already in shock and he couldn’t tell because Q – that was how he was going to call him unless the man told him otherwise – was really warm against him and everything felt like it was right.

 

The crown glued itself together and started to shine brightly above them, forcing James to stuff it under his pillow so he could go back to sleep. He vaguely wondered if Q would really be there when he woke up, his worries put to rest when he heard a soft murmur in his ear that assured him of that.

 

***

 

He couldn’t help but feel bad for the terrified hotel workers that scurried around them to make sure their room was perfect. The poor manager was a step away from busting out the red carpet and having someone spread freshly plucked rose petals on it just to be sure that he wouldn’t offend the god.

 

“I went through a phase the temples were still standing and my maenads tore through a certain person that insulted me,” Q explained when James asked why the god of debauchery was so feared. “But I’m over that now and won’t have people torn to shreds unless they’re a danger to what I hold dear.” For normal people, that sounded horrific. But for James, it was the best damned love declaration he had received in his life.

 

They had returned to Greece to visit the newly discovered statue of Aceso, although Q had been forced into it by an old man that suddenly appeared at their doorstep one day, a horrible storm breaking out the instant Q argued back – turned out the man was Q’s father, James not quite remembering which god he was.

 

“And both your mother and stepmother want to meet the mortal that captured your heart, so you will bloody well come home!” The ban bellowed, his voice somehow covering the powerful sound of thunder – was it Thor? No, that god was Nordic.

 

Q had actually turned pale when the man mentioned his stepmother and that was when James intervened, demanding that the man left their apartment that instant. No, he didn’t know with whom and frankly, he didn’t care. All he cared about was that his Q was honestly distressed and upset which he had never truly been before and because of that, the man had to leave.

 

“Stay away from my stepmother. She hates mortals that aren’t her followers,” Q warned, grabbing James’ shirt. “Did you understand what I said? Hera, her name is Hera and she will not hesitate to kill.”

 

James wrapped his arms around him, kissed the top of his head and swore that he would listen to him. “Just point out who she is because I already forgot her name. I only care for one god and that one is in my arms and about to moan my name in pleasure.”

 

A glass shattering and a man suddenly throwing on his feet in front of Q brought James back to the present. Q was trying to get the man to stand, telling him that everything was okay, slowly starting to lose his patience with the stubborn and scared fool. He gave James a look, pretty much leaving him to deal with the sobbing wreck that was a step away from taking out pictures of his family from his wallet to plead for his life.

 

“It’s okay, really.” James said slowly, pulling the man to his feet and patting his back. “He didn’t like that glass anyway.

 

The statue wasn’t that grand in James’ opinion, but then again, they only glanced at it for a few seconds before Q pulled them away, bringing them back to the clearing where they had met for a second time. They played for a bit, Q hiding behind trees and columns, telling James that he had to catch him first, his laughter making the grapes become just right for the picking and turning the little stream that passed near them to turn into wine.

 

But they didn’t get to enjoy their bodies since, the moment they kissed, the sky parted and the empty clearing was suddenly full of all sorts of people, strange little creatures with wings on their backs filling in large tables with all sorts of food and drinks.

 

“At least we’re not doing this on Mount Olympus,” Q grumbled, sighing when James kissed his temple.

 

The whole affair was overwhelming and James made sure to never leave Q’s side, nodding his head and smiling at everyone who paraded before them, introducing themselves and judging him. It finally clicked in his brain just who exactly Q’s father was at the fifth half sibling that was introduced to him and he realized just how close he had been to death – yet again – when he had thrown the ruler of the Greek gods out of their apartment.

 

Q’s mother was nice and kind if a little see-through. “That’s because she was mortal,” Q’s stepmother explained, the God of Wine stepping between her and James. “Oh, stop that now, child. I apologized for the whole Titan thing and I have gotten over my disdain when it comes to mortals.” She moved closer to the god, lowering her voice. “Plus, this one is yours, not Zeus’. If he keeps it away from my husband, I do not see a reason to strike him dead.”

 

“No offense to anyone, but Q’s the single most be—” His mouth was instantly covered by both Q and Hera, the two gods hushing him.

 

“I think your mortal needs a crash course in our family history before his big mouth starts another war,” the goddess said hurriedly. “You two should not sit with us before that happens and I would like you two to leave after the ambrosia serving.”

 

James wanted to feel offended in his lover’s name because it seemed like they were being kicked out of an important diner, but Q was emanating happiness to the point where the wine tasted even better than before, so there was no need for that. And, in all honesty, he wanted to spend his vacation days just with Q and no one else so Hera’s act was a blessing in disguise.

 

He wasn’t allowed to taste the ambrosia and Q drank his entire glass in one go, getting up and grabbing James’ hand, instantly disappearing. When they came out of a little alleyway not too far from the hotel, the sky was just darkening, lighting and thunder striking really close to them and James understood that Q’s father was upset that the boy had left.

 

“He must be pissed because the party died after you left, love,” James whispered in his ear, wrapping himself around Q’s body and directing them towards the hotel. “Come on, I want to continue my worship of you without being interrupted by any noisy family members.”

 

Q tasted different that night and when James swallowed, he felt an energy surge through his body. He actually needed a moment to gather himself, feeling his insides start to burn. He wasn’t panicking because Q was the picture of calmness, playing with his hair and whispering soft words in his ear.

 

“You’re hotter than usual, love,” James panted out.

 

Q’s eyes sparkled with mischief in them. “Oh, that’s just the ambrosia, that nifty little drink that ensures that my kind lives eternally. You can’t drink pure ones, but no one is to blame if you end up cheating death for a few dozen of years if you accidentally come into contact with a distilled version of if.”

 

“I take it we’ll visit your family again when this thing completely wears off?” He moved to kiss Q’s chest when the man nodded, entwining their fingers. “What if you get bored of me by then?”

 

“I’m sure that will never happen. Plus,” he pulled James in his lap, tilting his head back so he could nibble down his neck. “You’re the only one who has ever worshiped me in the manner that I deserve.”

 

James could get used with the idea of never seeing his dead friends and family again, his heart hurting more at the thought of being apart from Q. “Hm, I guess you’re the real old man in this relationship. Should I start checking for white hair?”

 

Q pinched his nipple hard. “If you find some, then I will have you know that you are the one who created it. Wait, I just remembered… When your bloody quartermaster tells you to not bother with something, you don’t bother with it you stubborn mule!”

 

The scolding didn’t last long, James quickly distracting his lover with his lips and fingers, the only shouts that filled the night and bothered their hotel companions being caused by pleasure and not anger.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are pure love~


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